Rocking you gently as bed-on-wheels hit the road
ON AN overnight bus from San Francisco to Los Angeles, I asked a woman dressed in comfort clothes – a loose black tank top and pants – for advice on surviving the night.
“Double up on sleeping pills,” she suggested, before drawing the curtain to her bunk.
I had brought only nonprescription aids, a meditation app and East Coast jet lag, but I wasn’t too concerned: I have slept on buses before, upright, head swinging like a pendulum. Cabin was an upgrade, with horizontal mattresses and bedding that doesn’t work a day job as a coat.Cabin, a new start-up begun by two Stanford alumni, began service in mid-July as a third way to bounce between the NorCal and SoCal cities. The self-proclaimed “moving hotel” is an alternative to the 75-minute flight or 610km (Amtrak does not depart directly from San Francisco). A one-way ticket starts at $85 (R1 200), a budget option, especially if you factor in lodging.
I booked a bunk for September and chose a Sunday because, well, all the popular nights were sold out. Boarding begins at 10.30pm, half an hour before the doors close. The bus, which is painted gentleman’s-club black with a crescent moon graphic, departs from a dimly lit parking lot near the Bay Bridge. Travellers dragging bags on wheels materialised from the darkness. Accommodations are first-come, first-snooze. Guests can choose from 20 single-person private bunks stacked like freight containers on the second floor. The ground level contains two diner-style booths, an airline-size bathroom and two sleeping pods ideal for passengers with mobility issues, including navigating narrow stairs at highway speed.
A chipper guy with a flashbulb smile stood outside the bus checking off names on a clipboard, no ID requested. I asked Michael, our attendant for the first half of the trip, for suggestions on selecting a bed. He said the back of the bus is more stable but slightly louder and the front section is quieter but wiggles more. I selected a top bunk in the middle: moderate noise and movement, better window views, no feet near my face.
The sleeping chambers measure 190cm to 195cm in length, 64cm in height and 66 to 79cm in width. For context, the average size of a casket is 213-by-58-by-71. Fortunately, Michael said we could stash our carry-on bags in the pod without the mattress. Many of us also piled our belongings in a seating area by the stairs.
The scene onboard was more lights-out on a school night than Saturday evening slumber party. Passengers immediately cinched themselves inside their cubbies. Michael joined us upstairs to officially welcome the group aboard.Passengers in the lower bunks can easily slide into bed. The uppers don’t come with ladders, so I had to stand on my toes, lift my body with my arms and slither on my belly until I was securely on the mattress.Once I was comfortably supine, my feet hit a hard object at the end of the bed: my book.I drifted off a few pages later but woke up at 2.22am, when the cradle ceased rocking. We had stopped in Coalinga for a crew switch. I bolted awake two more times. We arrived in Santa Monica, nearly an hour early.
I wriggled out of bed and greeted the teacher, who was already packed up and heading to Starbucks to change into her work clothes. I found the Los Angeleno outside, a bit dazed. I asked him how he slept.
“Not so good. It was bumpy, and I have a stuffy nose,” he said. “I am going to bed now, for real.”
I went back inside the bus for a hot drink, one of the promised perks. The Cuisinart coffee maker was unplugged, and the attendant was a no-show. I asked the driver whether he knew how to work the machine. He didn’t, although he acknowledged that he, too, could use a cup of coffee. (Co-founder Tom Currier later explained the mix-up: “One of our backup Los Angeles attendants was unable to meet the vehicle in Santa Monica for morning beverage service. This was the first and only time that occurred, and we’ve already refined our internal process to mitigate any such instances.”)
Several people were still asleep upstairs. The driver said he would grant them 30 more minutes of shuteye before rousing them. I tidied up my space and brought my bags down. Eventually, the lollygaggers bumbled down the stairs. I said farewell to the driver and headed to the beach. I had planned to take a nap, but I wasn’t tired. For further information, visit ridecabin.com. – The Washington Post